


A Matter of Investigation

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Cute Girlfriends, F/F, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a rumour going around concerning the new head of the Investigation Department.</p>
<p>Ruthlessly efficient with her time, Lieutenant Colonel Maria Ross, interrogating a suspect or witness at at the close of the day or investigating a crime scene on the other side of Central, would nonetheless punch out at exactly seventeen in the afternoon, every afternoon, as though the dark blue pony car she drove would somehow transform into a pumpkin at 17:01. Certainly Ross would be first to volunteer for the stake-outs and the special assignments, rotating said missions between her subordinates to ensure both a lack of exhaustion and a growing skill and experience base permeating her force. But unless she arranged the late-night stay in advance, Ross could be speaking to the Führer of Amestris at 16:59 and still back out of the parking lot at the stroke of seventeen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Investigation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "HEY GC you dipshit I can't believe you added Maria/Rebecca to Apocalypse Not but but can you write some of it? ARigATOU U BIG DUMMY". For those reading this on LP, keep sending me prompts; you guys are the best and also the reasons I haven't updated my ungoing fics, damn you. For those on AO3, feel free to do the same, but LP prompts take priority.
> 
> This takes place several years after the end of FMA.
> 
> The record keeper is Sciezka, if you're curious.
> 
> For those of you who were wondering, I ship Ross/Catalina as romantic partners and Ross/Brosh as best friends for life, incredibly trusting platonic best friends. For those familiar with Homestuck, the term is 'moirail', heheh.
> 
> Unbeta'd/unedited/etc. etc.

There was a rumour going around concerning the new head of Investigations.

Ruthlessly efficient with her time, Lieutenant Colonel Maria Ross, interrogating a suspect or witness at at the close of the day or investigating a crime scene on the other side of Central, would nonetheless punch out at _exactly_ seventeen in the afternoon, every afternoon, as though the dark blue pony car she drove would somehow transform into a pumpkin at 17:01. Certainly Ross would be first to volunteer for the stake-outs and the special assignments, rotating said missions between her subordinates to ensure both a lack of exhaustion and a growing skill and experience base permeating her force. But unless she arranged the late-night stay in advance, Ross could be speaking to the Führer of Amestris at 16:59 and still back out of the parking lot at the stroke of seventeen.

“What do you think?” asked Lieutenant Weiss as he crowded around the coffeepot for a last cup. “Some people reckon she’s breakin’ the anti-frat.”

Blushing furiously, the records keeper missed her mug entirely and splashed a puddle of light brown onto the floor. “S-sorry, I’ll get that.”

“Or that she’s got a secret husband at home who’s _real_ strict about this stuff,” chimed in Sergeant Major Langley, brandishing her coffee cup like a holy weapon against a horde of demons. “Lets her go to her job’n all but expects dinner on the table by six, that kinna thing.”

“She could be lyin’ to him ‘bout where she works, too.” Weiss swirled his coffee. “Maybe we could go _investigate_ and shove a pipe up his sorry ass so hard you can see it in his throat, neh?”

As Brzenska knelt to wipe up the spill, the other two helpfully gave her the berth she required, and Weiss inquired if she wanted assistance. At the exact moment Major Denny Brosh, second-in-command of Investigations and officer in charge given Ross’s current absence, returned, the massive mountain of paperwork he held towering over his head as though deadlines and field reports could shield him from the world. His lingering subordinates leaped into salutes. “Sir!”

“Hey.” Brosh craned his neck to peer at his men over the side of the oversize stack.  
“Would someone mind?” Two-thirds of the paperwork vanished into waiting arms. Brosh exhaled in relief as the guilty countenances of the subordinates stared sheepishly at him over thick bundles of paper. “Hm? What were you talking about? Oh.” He hung his head, his forelock drooping over his brow. “C’mon, guys, it’s okay if you polished off the coffee, but at least ren-ember for next time, all right?”

Brzenska tossed the wadded paper towel in the wastebin and somehow disappeared entirely, leaving Weiss and Langley clearing their throats and ducking their heads. With a tilt of his head, Brosh waited in the increasingly uncomfortable silence. At length the sergeant coughed. “Major Brosh? Permission to ask a question, sir?”

Brosh blinked. “Of course, Langley.” His eyes crinkled slightly. “This _is_ the Investigation Department, after all.”

His men exchanged glances born less of the blood of the covenant and more of the fear of being fired. “Sir, Lieutenant Weiss and I were wondering, ‘though it’s none of our business, where the Lieutenant Colonel goes off every day like that. She’s very.” She rolled one word on her tongue and tasted another. “Punctual.”

“We were wonderin’, sir, if she’s got some nasty brute back at home.” She stabbed him between the ribs with her elbow, eyes narrowed into furious slits. “Sorry if that was too forward, sir.”

At that Major Brosh burst out laughing. Paperwork flooded the floor in waves of white. Still clutching his stomach, Brosh crouched to begin organising the runaway leafs again. “Not quite. Ah—it’s not really my place to say, but I don’t think you have to worry about an abusive _husband_ of all things.” With that, he shifted the stack to the crook of his left arm and lifted the coffeepot experimentally. A thin film of brown sloshed at the base. “Aha! See what a bit of investigating gets you? Weiss, could you hand me that cup?”

 

Ruthlessly efficient with her time, Lieutenant Colonel Maria Ross, stopping by the grocers to pick up ingredients for dinner or taking care of the apartment from a precursory daily cleaning to a putting-away of discarded clothing the instant she stepped in through the door, would nonetheless seat herself on the futon at _exactly_ 17:30 in the afternoon, every afternoon, as though the gorgeous woman she dated would somehow skip the country at 17:31. As her live-in girlfriend waltzed inside with an enormous grin, Ross gestured towards the brown bag on the counter, partially filled with whatever sandwich ingredients wouldn’t require the icebox. “Afterno-o-o-on, my favourite girl in the entire wo-o-o-orld,” chirped her girlfriend, waving two boxes of Xingese takeout. “Takeout first. Sandwiches—” She winked, and Ross’s cheeks flushed. The stoic head of Investigations reduced to a blushing bride. “—tonight.”

While her girlfriend popped open the styrofoam containers and started breaking open chopsticks, Ross raised herself from the futon. Crossed the room. Slipped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, her hands caressing her muscled abdomen and hips. “Hey.”

“He _yy_.” Her girlfriend leaned back to present a dazzlingly heartstring-plucking beam, her brown irises almost gold in the light.

Resting her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder, Ross licked her lips and ran her tongue lightly over the shell of her girlfriend’s ear. “I love you, you know that?” She smiled into the curve of her girlfriend’s neck. “Ms Major Rebecca Catalina.”

“Mmhm.” Catalina grinned. “The only girl you’d break the anti-fraternisation law for, eh?” Ross tightened the embrace. “Maria?”

“Hm?”

“Love ya too.” Catalina flicked the chopsticks on the table for a brief drumroll. “You lovesick dummy.”


End file.
